


Destiny Awaits

by Vialana



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 01:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7993801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vialana/pseuds/Vialana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lance joins Galaxy Garrison hoping to change the world. (Lance and the team, pre-series).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Destiny Awaits

Galaxy Garrison was both exactly the same and nothing like the amazing space exploration training facility as portrayed in the adverts and enlistment brochures. The buildings were stark and utilitarian with the latest tech integrated seamlessly into the structures. Receiving dishes spun and blinked on every available flat roof surface. Custom and modified rovers parked neatly in the open air. Uniformed cadets practised drills and enlisted service people patrolled the walls of the compound and guarded secure areas with proper weapons. For an exploratory operation it was certainly very militaristic.

Lance knew quite a few people had issues with the military influence on the institution but he didn’t really mind it.

His mother, however, had _opinions_ and had voiced them loudly when he’d announced his intention to join up. But Lance refused to back down.

She cried when he received his acceptance letter and hugged him close.

“I’m proud of you,” she’d said, heart in her throat.

Lance had tightened his grip on her, feeling her shake.

It had only been a week since news broke about the missing crew of the Kerberos mission when he received his acceptance. Lance didn’t sleep that night, holding his letter tight in one hand while scrolling through pictures of the ace pilot Shiro on the net. The last time he’d looked up Shiro on the net had been to distract himself from his nerves about his letter and to enviously reread the announcement of Shiro’s new position as the pilot of the Kerberos scientific research mission.

Lance may have gone back to read every news article about Shiro ever since he found out how young the celebrated pilot was when appointed to the mission.

Shiro was the reason Lance had signed up as a pilot. Even missing, he inspired Lance to strive for more—to be more—than even he could conceive. And yeah, parades and news articles might be nice but Shiro had said something in one of his interviews that stuck with Lance even as he was laughing and bragging about what an awesome pilot he would be.

“I’m not a genius, not like some of the people I work with. I’m just a guy who works hard and does his job and tries to make the world a better place in whatever way I can.”

Lance wanted accolades, sure. But he remembered his mother’s trembling smile as she waved him off at the transport dock. He wanted to make the world a better place.

… And if he so happened to become an ace pilot while doing so then all the better, right?

Lance’s thoughts lingered on Shiro’s words and his mother’s smile as he stood in line with the other new cadets in the open yard inside the walls of Galaxy Garrison and listened to the instructors who would control his life for the next few years.

He wanted this. He did. He was going to be a pilot. One of the best.

 

***

 

Lance met Hunk in the commissary. The big guy was politely telling one of the cadets assigned to kitchen duties that day how to properly season whatever the blob of vegetable paste was supposed to be. The cadet wasn’t listening, trying to push Hunk’s tray along unobtrusively to serve the next person in line who just happened to be Lance.

“Wait,” Lance interrupted the diatribe. “Are you telling me you can make _this_ palatable?” He spooned up some of the grey stuff already on his plate and let it drip back down to the tray. Each plop echoed Lance’s question.

Hunk rolled his eyes. “It’s not even that hard.” He glared at the cadet server who still didn’t care about his distinct lack of culinary talent and slid Hunk’s tray along the serving bench as soon as he had an opportunity. Hunk huffed and continued down the line. Lance winced at the brownish “food” the server dumped on his tray and continued down the food line.

“You gotta let me in your secret man,” Lance said once he had his meal and sat himself decisively in the seat opposite Hunk despite the many empty tables in the room. “I’ve been choking down this crap hoping it’ll get better but my stomach’s gonna revolt soon if I don’t eat something decent.”

Hunk had paused with a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. He looked around as though wondering why Lance was sitting in front of him. Then he bent closer and took another look around, furtively ducking his head to avoid notice, before pulling out an opaque shaker.

Lance watched him season both of their plates and tuck the tube away with another furtive look.

“I don’t think anyone would care about a little—” Lance took a sniff of the spices “—garlic and turmeric.”

“Technically it’s contraband.”

“Seriously?”

“Didn’t you read the manual?”

Lance waved him off. “Like those things ever have anything useful.” He took a bite of his food and nodded. It was still unidentifiable but now it didn’t taste completely like crap. “Nice work, dude.”

“Hunk.” The guy held out his hand and Lance shook it.

“Lance. I’m a pilot.”

“Man, you couldn’t pay me to get into space. Engineering.”

“What are you doing here if you don’t like space flight?”

“Are you kidding? Galaxy has the best aeronautical and mechanical engineering courses around. Plus, they pay for your education if you sign up. Not all of their postings are on ships. I’m hoping for a job in the hangers or even their R&D labs.” Judging by Hunk’s blank gaze and soppy smile, Galaxy’s R&D labs were a land of beauty and dreams.

Lance smiled. “That sounds cool. I mean, personally I think it’s a waste, but then I can’t wait to break atmo so I’m biased.” He ate another mouthful of dinner. “Dude, this really isn’t half bad. Nothing like my mom’s cooking, of course.”

“Tell me about it.” Hunk winced as he took another bite. “I didn’t think I’d miss my dad’s meals until I got here. He likes char.”

They shared a moment of silence for their homesickness before digging back into their food.

Lance was pretty sure he’d just met his best friend.

 

***

 

Pidge Gunderson was a strange one.

Oh, he was super smart and could do his job blindfolded, but Lance always felt like something was off about him. He didn’t like extended eye-contact unless he was caught up in explaining something; he was beyond nervous around their instructors—the guy would literally hold his breath sometimes until they were gone.

Most importantly: he never wanted to hang out with Lance and Hunk after hours.

Hunk tried to play it off like it was no big deal—“Some guys just like their alone time, dude.” But Lance had seen the dejected look on his friend’s face when he’d asked Pidge if he wanted to help with a side project Hunk was doing for extra credit in his quantum mechanics elective and all Pidge did was fiddle with his glasses and offer a half-hearted, “Sorry, I have … things, right now. But, next time, maybe?” before practically running away.

Lance was no slouch in the brains department (he did get accepted into a space pilot course, that took some intelligence and ability, okay) but Hunk and Pidge were next level science geniuses. He could follow Hunk’s hypothesis for his project but anything further than that would have needed years of study and patience that Lance could admit he was not ready to commit to.

Still, he’d held pieces of metal and carefully cropped wires as Hunk needed and tried not to think too much about how Hunk had to translate his thoughts into layman terms when Lance knew that Pidge was fully capable of following Hunk’s thoughts in their native scientific language. Hunk was thrilled at the help, even if Lance knew he sometimes slowed things down. It was awesome seeing his best friend in his element and he was proud to contribute something to science beside his awesome piloting skills.

Pidge did eat lunch with them at least. He’d chat with Hunk about their shared classes or make fun of Lance getting shot down in the cafeteria line. But he never talked about himself, nothing about his family or his interests outside of classes.

It wasn’t obvious at first because Lance enjoyed talking and was surprised at how homesick he could get on some days. Hunk was always sympathetic and loved talking about his own life and his projects. Pidge would offer quiet sympathy or a few technical points for Hunk but never shared his own feelings. Three weeks after meeting the guy and Lance only knew his name and specialisation within the Garrison. Three _minutes_ after meeting Hunk he knew the guy liked to cook when he was stressed and missed his dad and had a dog when he was a kid and hated flying with a passion that was almost admirable.

Pidge seemed like a cool guy—he could come up with awesomely vicious insults for classmates that had pissed him off that day—and he could keep up with Hunk’s brilliance. Lance wanted to get to know the guy he would have to trust on missions to watch his back. Nothing major, just little things—did he miss home? Did he have any pets? Favourite movie? Opinions about Batman? Preferred colour of underwear?

They were a team—Lance, Hunk and Pidge. Lance wanted them to stay that way.

 

***

 

Sometimes, late at night, Lance would involuntarily think about Keith.

It was hard not to think about Keith. Every day Lance was compared to him—overtly while being lectured about his performance or indirectly when he would trip himself up in the simulator due to the controls being just different enough to the cargo transport controls he’d just mastered before being assigned to fighter class. Lance knew very well that he was only in fighter class because Keith had an attitude problem.

Aside from he sort of personality that could get you booted from Galaxy Garrison, Keith was apparently a paragon of the highest virtues of pilot-hood.

It made Lance sick. No one was that perfect. Clearly Keith wasn’t because otherwise he would still be there, breaking records, teeth, and hearts.

Late at night, though, in the dark and quiet of his room, Lance could admit that maybe—maybe—Keith really was as good as people remembered. That he _did_ master the piloting system by the end of his first simulation. That his piloting skills _were_ precise and deadly. That the first thought Lance had when he watched the top student fly—his first overwhelming and lingering thought—was: _beautiful_.

Sometimes, late at night, lying on his hard bed staring at the plain ceiling in his assigned barracks, Lance wondered about Keith. What he was doing, where he went after storming out of the Garrison, if he was still flying.

Did he find the freedom he was clearly craving?

Was he happy?

In the morning light, it was easy to dismiss his thoughts. It was even easier when the instructors were yelling at him. It was so much easier to hate Keith for his perfection when he wasn’t there. He was a symbol for Lance’s failures, a scapegoat for his insecurities. If Keith wasn’t really real then it didn’t matter that Lance couldn’t measure up to him because who could beat a memory, an ideal?

Keith wasn’t even a real person in Lance’s mind any more. Not the perfect pilot idolised by the staff and students at the Garrison. Not the figment of emotion Lance conjured up at night.

Keith wasn’t real any more, until Lance saw him sneaking into a guarded crash site to rescue a pilot everyone thought long dead.

Late at night, Lance saw Keith again and, soon after, everything about reality changed.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr under [ladyvialana](https://ladyvialana.tumblr.com/)


End file.
